


Don't Make Me Fall In Love Again If He Won't Be Here Next Year

by xLoveMx



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Christmas Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Harmony - Freeform, Mention of Character Death, Rita skeeter is a bitch, What else is new
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-10
Updated: 2020-12-10
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:21:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27988392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xLoveMx/pseuds/xLoveMx
Summary: For a moment she was stunned, because this was the last thing she had expected to see. Surely, there must have been a reason for him to come to this little town, but she hadn’t expected Harry Potter, famous wizard and high-ranking worker at the Ministry of Magic, to plan on opening a coffee shop.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Harry Potter
Comments: 14
Kudos: 58
Collections: Harmony Advent Collection 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> My yearly piece for the Harmony&Co Advent Calendar collection! I miss writing these two, so I'm glad I got to finish something for Christmas, maybe that'll be a tradition! Again this is loosely based on a movie that I watched with my bestie, called 'The Christmas Ornament,'  
> A little cheesy, but I actually really enjoyed it!
> 
> Hopefully you guys will love this story just as much! Happy Holidays! x

_Santa tell me if you're really there_  
_Don't make me fall in love again_  
_If he won't be here next year_

When the phone rang, Hermione instantly knew who it was before even checking the number. “Arthur, how are you?” Folding the jersey in front of her, she kept the phone between her shoulder and ear, lips curved into a smile at the almost stunned silence on the other end of the line.  
“Hermione! Yes, most fabulous! How did you know it was me?” He had always been interested in Muggle things, so for his last birthday, Hermione had given him a phone. Even Molly, who usually wasn’t a fan of modern technology, had agreed that it was a good idea, especially since it was a more efficient way to keep in touch. Even though Hermione enjoyed the aesthetic that came with letters delivered by owls, she wasn’t a fan of having to wait a long time for a response to one simple question that could easily be answered by a phone call.

Besides: Being at Hogwarts had been like stepping into an entirely different world, one she had come to love, but when her school years had been over she had to admit that she was glad to be stepping back into a somewhat more real, less secluded world, in which she was able to have the best of both worlds.

“Your number shows up on the display, remember?” She chuckled, putting the folded jersey aside. “I’m assuming you’re calling about Christmas?” It hadn’t yet begun to snow, but the temperatures had dropped, and people had been putting up Christmas decorations in town ever since the middle of November. Hermione hadn’t really felt like Christmas this year, so she had only hung up a couple of decorations around the shop but left all the boxes with the Christmas decorations for her house in the basement where they had been since Ron and her had moved.

“Yes! Molly just wanted to check in and confirm if you are still coming, and I myself saw it as a good excuse to use the phone,” Arthur chuckled, which caused Hermione to smile once more.

“Smart. Yes, I am still coming on the 25th, tell her she doesn’t have to check in about it every week though, I won’t change my mind.”

Hermione didn’t feel like celebrating Christmas, but she wasn’t about to tell him that. Ron’s family lived in a remote area that wasn’t far from the town they had settled in not too long ago, and she was sure that, if she canceled, the entire family would show up at her doorstep, and that family consisted of a lot of people. They meant well, she knew that, but she’d rather go there on her own terms and maybe be able to sneak away in the evening with an excuse about a large order or something along the lines of that.

“Great, I will tell her that then!” Arthur enthusiastically replied, though his tone shifted just a little as he continued, “How are you, though?”

Biting her lip, Hermione leaned against the counter, holding back a sigh. “I’m doing alright. Just taking it day by day, still.” Letting her eyes roam around the shop, where the shelves were stacked with various Quidditch utensils and jerseys in different colors and shapes, along with the gift section that consisted mostly of magnets and key chains.

The jingling of the little bell above the door pulled her from her thoughts and she remembered that she was still on the phone, quickly shaking off the haze. “I’ll be right with you!” She then called, “Sorry Arthur, I’ve got a customer. Tell Molly I said hi and I’ll see you on Christmas,”

Putting the phone down, Hermione turned to look at the person who had entered the shop, and when she caught sight of the man that had stepped in, dark hair and coat, with the collar turned up against the wind, she almost did a double take. She had seen his face in the newspaper countless times, and even now that quite a few years had passed since both of them had left Hogwarts, he occasionally appeared in an article or two, but Hermione tended not to believe whatever was written in them, especially since they were the courtesy of Rita Skeeter. She had asked to interview Hermione a couple of times, and when she had politely declined, the reporter had simply made up a story which had been so factually wrong that Hermione had been getting calls and owls for weeks on end, having to explain what had really happened.

“I didn’t know there was a Quidditch shop in town,” He smiled, his eyes wandering over the shelves before landing on Hermione eventually.

“Ah yes. We’re a hidden gem.” Which really was a nice way of saying that not many people came here to shop. The town had only about 200 inhabitants, and while most of them were wizards, not a lot of them played Quidditch anymore. Occasionally someone would buy something for their kids, though the older they got the more they turned to London and Diagon Alley for their shopping, which Hermione could understand. The muggles that lived here came in every now and then, but mostly to chat, since Quidditch wasn’t really a sport they were interested in, and Hermione understood. She wouldn’t have wanted anyone buying anything out of pity either.

Ron had bought the store mainly for its closeness to his parents’ home and his enthusiasm about getting it up and running, including ad campaigns that would get people to come to the village solely for the expertise on Quidditch, had been endearing. Still, even though they had saved up a bit of money, Ron had given up his job to run the shop, which meant that they were missing a significant amount of income, at least in the first few months, so they wouldn’t have been able to afford the rent in Diagon Alley, or even just London, anyways.

“Can I help you with anything?” Hermione had been in her first year during Harry’s last year at Hogwarts, and while she had never interacted with him directly she remembered that he had been the star of the Quidditch team, and even though he had never played professionally afterwards, people had still talked about his phenomenal skills as a seeker.

“Oh, I was really just fleeing from the rain.” He admitted with a chuckle, “But I feel bad not buying anything. What could you recommend?”

Hermione had never been a fan of playing Quidditch herself, and while she had enjoyed going to the games, she had left everything else to Ron. Still, she knew all there was to know about the items in the store, even if rarely anyone ever came to actually ask.

“Don’t feel pressured to buy something,” She then laughed, shaking her head. “The weather out here can get pretty bad. Last march it rained for about two weeks straight. I’m surprised we didn’t get completely flooded,” She then added, though Hermione wouldn’t be surprised if a little magic had been involved in helping with that. Ever since the Ministry of Magic and the Queen were working together to make both worlds more accessible for the other, and therefore also not blindsiding children and their parents when their son or daughter developed magical abilities all of a sudden, things had been changing. Wizards no longer hid their abilities and were able to help out every now and then, while muggles introduced them to new technology. Hermione knew, also from the papers, that Harry had been working with the Ministry to make it all happen, which was the reason she was so surprised to see him in a small town like this, she assumed he was incredibly busy, so taking time off to just travel around the country, unless it was on business, seemed off. Especially since she would have definitely heard about it if anyone here was friends with the famous Harry Potter.

“How about a keychain for now?” He offered with another smile, glancing at the various chains dangling from the little stand on the counter. “Which one is your favorite?”

Following his glance, Hermione pondered for a moment, before picking up the one with the emblem belonging to the _Vratsa Vultures_. “How about this one?” She then nodded before handing it over. “It’s one of the lesser bought ones here in England, but a good friend of mine used to play for the team pretty successfully,” She smiled, “If you are interested in teams from across the world, however, we do have those as well. From the _Stonewall Stormers_ to the _Woollongong Warriors._ Or if you’re interest in the _Transylvanian National Team_ , we do have a few of those in stock, they do have quite an interesting emblem, though people might not recognize where it’s from since they have only taken part in the World Cup a total of two times, and never made it past the first round. It serves as a nice conversation starter though.”

“Wow, you really do know everything there is to know, huh?” Harry nodded as he took the chain she had offered, and Hermione found herself blushing ever so slightly. “Did you ever play?”

“Oh God no,” She then laughed, shaking her head. “Let’s just say I’m not a fan of taking off the ground on something that usually used for cleaning. I did enjoy going to the games though, and my husband was a keeper for the Gryffindor Team,”

It had only been ten years since he had excitedly gone to the try outs and come back prouder than Hermione had ever seen him, and yet it seemed like almost a lifetime ago.

“Really? That’s great. I was a Seeker myself,” He nodded, pulling out his wallet and sliding a bill across the table.

“Oh I remember. You were playing the first Quidditch match I ever attended at school,” Taking the bill from him, Hermione grabbed the change, but found that he was holding his hand up.

“Keep the change. Wait, does that mean we attended Hogwarts at the same time?”

“Only briefly. I was merely at the end of my first year when you graduated,” She then quickly replied. “Are you sure you don’t want any change? That key chain costs way less than this.”

With his lips curved into a smile, Harry nodded once more. “I’m sure, and I was about to say...I wouldn’t have forgotten a girl as beautiful as you, your husband is really lucky. Hopefully we’ll see each other around!” And with that he had let the key chain slip into his pocket and turned the collar of his coat upwards again, before stepping out into the street, leaving Hermione to herself once more.

-

“You won’t believe what I’ve heard!” Parvati’s voice rang through the phone, which Hermione had once again trapped between her ear and shoulder as she reached for her scarf and mittens.

“And by heard you mean _read in either the Daily Mail or the Daily Prophet_?” She asked, a smile playing on her lips. Parvati was one of the few people she still kept in contact with from her time at Hogwarts, the others being Luna and Neville. Sometimes there were a few Holiday cards that came, but they were more of the standard cards, addressed to both Ron and her. Something she was actually dreading this year, but for now Hermione had pushed it as far from her mind as possible.

“Correct.” The other woman replied, and Hermione couldn’t help but shake her head a little as she stepped out of the house and into the cool morning air.

“And let me guess: It’s so important that you just had to tell me at,” Hermione quickly checked her watch, “Seven in the morning?” she could have just let the call go to voicemail, but knowing her friend, Hermione was sure that Parvati would have kept calling to tell her the big news, whatever it was, and she’d much rather get the gossip out of the way first thing in the morning.

“It is! I mean come on. We haven’t talked about Harry Potter in like, at least a year! He was off doing his work for the ministry, but now he apparently took a leave to gather his thoughts. Some people are reporting a nasty break up as well, which would make sense considering no one’s seen him and his girlfriend out together in a while, but instead she’s hanging out with this Malfoy guy...” At the mention of Harry’s name, Hermione had perked up. She had wondered what had brought him to a town as sleepy as this one, and assuming it wasn’t ministry work, it had to have been something personal. She hadn’t expected him to take a leave of absence and end up here though, but then again this was the _Daily Prophet_ , so everything could have easily been blown out of proportion.

“Anyway, nobody has found out where he’s at yet, but I will keep you updated!” Hermione was glad that the other woman couldn’t to see her face, because it would have absolutely given her away. Parvati was based in London, and there was only a small chance she would show up to visit Hermione out of the blue, so there was no reason to tell her that Harry Potter himself had walked into her shop just yesterday, because while people would eventually find out where he was, Hermione had a feeling that half of London, which included Rita Skeeter, would know immediately if she told Parvati.

“Please do. I have to go, talk to you later!” Hermione let her phone slip into her pocket as she walked along the main street, watching the still lit streetlamps and dark windows as she passed them, before eventually arriving in the town center. It was a small square that was lined by more shops and restaurants, and in its center the town had set up a small ice-skating rink. During the day it was usually filled with kids who came here after school, or people that passed through the square and were almost magically drawn to it, because it reminded them of their childhood.

Hermione liked coming here early in the morning though, before work. It was nice to have some time to herself that wasn’t spent sitting in her empty house or shop, and it also doubled as exercise she didn’t really get with spending most of her day behind the counter.

She easily slipped into her skates and did a few rounds, enjoying the way it seemed to free her mind of any thoughts that usually kept her up at night. She was good at keeping herself distracted during the day, but whenever things settled down and got quiet, Hermione’s mind decided to race at a hundred miles per hour, turning everything over again and again, and still not making sense of it.

“So you’re good at ice skating, too. I should have guessed,” Harry’s voice nearly caused her to stumble and fall over, but Hermione barely managed to catch herself, and when she turned, he was leaning against the railing of the ice rink, a smile on his lips. “I might have spoken too soon,” He then added, and Hermione felt the sudden urge to poke her tongue out at him.

“You try keeping steady when someone sneaks up on you,” She then replied, before adding, “You’re up early.” Having regained her balance, she slowly skated over to where he was, before coming to a stop eventually.

“Couldn’t sleep, so I decided to take a walk. It’s much easier to have a look around if there’s nobody to recognize you,” He answered, “And when I saw you I remembered that I didn’t even get your name,” The smile had returned to his face and it was almost contagious, making the corners of Hermione’s lips turn upwards as well.

“Hermione,” She then nodded, taking the hand he had extended over the barrier.

“Harry, though assuming you’ve seen me play at Hogwarts, you already knew that,”

“Nice to meet you, Harry.” There was a pause where they were both holding onto the other’s hand a little longer than necessary, before realizing that a handshake was probably not supposed to last this long. Quickly pulling away, Hermione reached up to push a strand of hair behind her ear, seemingly glad when he spoke again.

“I could walk you to work if you’d like. I’m headed in the same direction,” He offered another smile, and Hermione, who was glad for the distraction, nodded.

“Just give me a second!” Once she had stepped out of the rink and changed back into her shoes, she quickly let the skates vanish into her bag, before falling in step next to Harry as they walked down the street.

“So, aren’t you going to ask me what I’m doing here?” He eventually spoke after a while, hands buried deep in the pockets of his coat as they walked.

“I figured if you wanted to, you’d have told me.” She then replied, glancing over, only to see that he was smiling again. It was strangely intimate, even though they were just walking down the street, and Hermione somehow had the feeling as if they had known each other much longer than just a day. It wasn’t a feeling she could place, but it was...interesting to say the least. In fact, this was probably the most interesting thing that had happened to her all year. Before she could ponder on the subject any further though, they had already reached the shop, both of them coming to a halt.

“Well, thank you for not prying,” he offered with a smile, “It was nice, talking to you I mean. Maybe we could have a coffee sometime? It’ll be on me.” His smile was almost infectious, and even though Hermione knew she should have probably said no, she found herself nodding in response.

“I’d like that,” It was just going to be a coffee, after all. She went out for coffee with Parvati or the others every time she went to London, so it would be no big deal. “I’ll see you around then,”

Pulling the key from her bag she turned to open the door to the shop, stepping inside and catching Harry’s smile one last time as he waved at her through the glass door.

Hermione waved back.

-

With little to no customers in the shop that morning, she spent most of her time rearranging the shelves to make them look more inviting and organized, though Ron would have probably told her that they couldn’t possibly be more organized, or color coordinated, but there wasn’t really much else to do. When lunch time came around, Hermione decided to get herself something to eat, it wasn’t like she was missing out on any sales, but when she stepped out onto the street, she was taken aback by the line that had formed in front of the shop across the street. For the longest time there had been a small coffee shop there, but it had closed down right after Ron and her had moved to town and had been empty ever since. She had seen people come in and out, doing some renovations for a bit, but then nothing had ever happened, so she had just assumed they were trying to make it look passable for potential buyers, but it seemed like she had been wrong.

Crossing the street, Hermione noticed the now red painted front and the fairy lights in the window, along with the new name painted above. _Lily’s Delights._

She could tell that people were shuffling from one foot to another, already a little impatient while they were waiting, and when she poked her head in through the door, she could see none other than Harry behind the counter, handing out small pastries and coffee to people.

For a moment she was stunned, because this was the last thing she had expected to see. Surely, there must have been a reason for him to come to this little town, but she hadn’t expected Harry Potter, famous wizard and high-ranking worker at the Ministry of Magic, to plan on opening a coffee shop.

“So when you said the coffee was on you, this is what you meant.” She finally managed, and Harry’s eyes immediately came to meet hers, his lips curving into a smile.

“Hermione! Yes. Well. Surprise,” He chuckled, handing over another coffee. “I didn’t think it was going to take off the way it did, otherwise I might have bought a place that was a little bigger,”

The entire place was rather small, with the counter and a door behind it that Hermione assumed lead into the kitchen, and space for about four tables and chairs, two by the window and two in the corner. It was probably also the reason why the queue outside was so long. Everyone wanted to get a glimpse at the famous Harry Potter, who seemed to have opened a coffee shop in their town, but there wasn’t nearly enough space to cram them all inside. “I’d love to chat a little more, but I feel like people are going to turn on me on my first day if I don’t get on with it,”

He picked up another pastry, and Hermione couldn’t help but chuckle at the enthusiasm with which he packed it up and handed it over, before pushing a strand of hair that had fallen into his face, back.

“Oh, hold on!” Turning to look at the queue once more, she suddenly felt an idea form into her head and decided to simply go for it. Putting her bag down, Hermione pulled out a few books and set them down onto the nearest table. She then picked up the first one, before approaching a woman in the queue that stood there with her child, trying to keep her from wandering off, or so it seemed.

“Hey there, can I tell you a secret?” The girl, who couldn’t have been older than six, turned to look at her, eyes wide.

“Yes!” She then excitedly spoke. “Of course!” Pulling the book from behind her back, Hermione showed it to the girl, lips curved into a smile. “This is a story that is only for the bravest girls out there, it’s about a boy that never wanted to grow up, and a girl that helped him when he lost his way. Oh and there’s pirates and mermaids,” The book she was holding up was an illustrated children’s edition of Peter Pan, and the girl excitedly grabbed it, before turning to her mother.

“Mommy! Can you read it to me?” With a grateful smile towards Hermione, the woman picked up the book and opened it, and soon enough she was quietly reading to her daughter, pointing out the illustrations. Hermione had already moved on, having picked up another book.

“Mike, have you read the newest book in the _Rivers of London_ series? It’s a bit shorter than the others but has an intriguing story nonetheless!” It wasn’t long until most of the people in the queue, at least the ones that were interested anyways, had a book to read and pass the time until they could get their order in.

It took about an hour until most of the customers had trickled out, though there was the occasional kid pressing their nose against the glass window to catch a glimpse of Harry, and maybe the pastries whose smell was wafting out into the street.

“You’re amazing, you know that?” Harry eventually spoke, leaning against the counter with a chuckle. “Dare I ask where you got all those books? And why you were carrying them around?”

Hermione laughed in response, feeling a slight blush creeping onto her cheeks. “Oh, it’s nothing,” She then replied. “And I was taking them down to the square, there’s a little shelf where people can leave their old books and take new ones if they want. I’ve got a lot of them, so I tend to always bring some there, they found new homes now regardless though, so that’s great. I didn’t take you for the baking type.” She then added teasingly, and Harry laughed again, nodding towards one of the tables as he loaded some of the pastries onto a plate and then brought them over to the table.

“Coffee?” Hermione nodded as she settled into the seat by the window, waiting for him to join.

“Well, I’ve always been a pretty good cook, and my mother had a whole book of handwritten recipes which was passed down to me after she was gone. Besides, Minerva definitely helped add to that collection. We’ll see if people actually like my stuff or if they were just here to see what the hell I’m doing,”

Hermione had picked up one of the pastries and taken a bite, instantly feeling a sense of home and comfort. “Wow, these are good.” She wasn’t sure why, but she hadn’t expected him to be a good cook, or baker, but then instantly scolded herself for thinking that way. She didn’t know him after all. All that she knew about him had been learned, mostly unwillingly, through newspaper articles, and Hermione didn’t think that those were very reliable.

“You really think so?” He asked, and for a moment she was mesmerized by the way he was staring at her, so open and honest that it almost took her breath away. It was the little bell above the door that broke the connection, and Hermione quickly nodded, clearing her throat.

“Yes. They’re great. I should probably get back to work though,” It wasn’t until now that she realized that they had spent nearly two hours together, and that she had meant to reopen the shop an hour ago.

“Oh sure. Hold on,” He quickly stepped back behind the counter, pulling out a paper bag and picking up another pastry before handing it to Hermione. “For later,” His lips had curved into another smile and Hermione found herself mirroring it as she took the bag.

“Thank you. I’ll see you around, Harry.”

“Looking forward to it!” He called with a chuckle, and Hermione realized that she was blushing just a little again as she stepped out onto the street.

-

She had half a mind to call Parvati the next morning, just to see if the news of Harry actually being in the town Hermione was living in had already made it to London, and _the Daily Prophet_ , but she figured that her friend would have already called if that was the case. In fact, Hermione wouldn’t have been surprised if the other woman would have straight up come to visit her, just to get a glimpse of Harry.

Her phone stayed silent however, as she made her way towards the ice rink once more, enjoying the quiet and the cool morning air. When she reached the square, however, she could tell that she wasn’t the only one. With her lips turned into a smile, Hermione noticed Harry leaning against the railing, giving her a nod.

“I brought coffee,” He then greeted her, holding up the two cups, before handing one over to Hermione as she reached him.

“I can see that.” She then chuckled, taking the cup. “Thank you. Are you going to join me on the ice or were you just hoping to learn something by watching?” She wasn’t even sure why it was so easy to tease him, but somehow it felt like they had known each other for years. Of course that made no sense, she was well aware of that, but still, she couldn’t quite shake the feeling.

“Well, I might give it a try.” Harry laughed in response and glancing down Hermione could tell that he was already wearing skates. “I am no professional though. In fact, I think I haven’t tried this since...well, it’s been a while.” They quickly finished their coffee and before long they were both on the ice.

Harry was doing pretty well all things considered, only wobbling around just a bit in the beginning as Hermione did her rounds, circling around him with a chuckle.

“Okay, how does that work?” He asked, nearly toppling over as he tried to do a turn, causing Hermione to laugh once more.

“Hold on,” She then nodded, reaching out to take his hands. “Just loosen up and let it happen. You won’t fall over, I promise.” Her promise shouldn’t have any weight considering they had met two days ago, and yet Harry easily nodded, holding onto her hands as she circled him once more, making sure that he was stable as he was spun around.

When they eventually came to a stop, Hermione found herself pulled closer as he tried to keep himself from falling over once more, and when their eyes met, she had a hard time looking away.

They were close, closer than they should have probably been, but there was just something about his green eyes that was mesmerizing to a point that made it hard to pull back. It was the clock striking eight, with the bells going off, that snapped them out of it eventually, and Hermione quickly pulled back, feeling her cheeks heating up slightly. “We should probably go,” She then nodded, “Wouldn’t want people waiting for their breakfast,”

“If they actually came for that. I still see a possibility of them just wanting to see what the bloody hell I am doing here,” Harry laughed as they made their way off the ice rink.

“Don’t be silly, your pastries are to die for, Harry.” Hermione countered as she slipped into her normal shoes. “And if the pancakes or scrambled eggs your offering are only half as good people will be all over them,”

“Can I get you to have some breakfast before we open, then? Since we have the same way to work.” His lips were curved into another smile as they fell in step next to each other, and Hermione did her best to ignore the way her heart skipped a beat.

“Well. I won’t say no to free food,” She eventually smiled, taking the arm Harry had offered her.

-

For the rest of the day Hermione found herself mostly buried with her nose in a book she had picked up yesterday after giving most of hers away at the coffee shop, occasionally glancing through the window to see customers enter and exit _Lily’s Delights_. The queue was definitely shorter this time around, but there were still quite a few people coming in and out of the shop and it made her smile. If Harry had ever been worried about his food not being good enough, then this should have really put his thoughts to rest.

It wasn’t until noon that she found her phone ringing, and with one glance at the display, decided not to answer.

It was Parvati’s number that had flashed up, and Hermione really wasn’t in the mood to gossip, especially not with her eyes falling on the man that had just now pushed the door open, the little bell above announcing his entry.

“Morning Hermione, how have you been?” He offered her a smile, which she attempted to return, but didn’t quite manage. His name was Thomas Fort, he owned the small diner next to Hermione’s shop, and occasionally checked in when things were slow.

“Good, as usual. What about you?” In fact, she found that it wasn’t even a lie, at least a lesser one that normally, but he didn’t seem to quite believe it.

“Good, good. Quite the ruckus out there with Mr. Potter deciding to grace this town with his presence,” He then continued. “Have you changed your mind at all about the offer?”  
She had known that the question would come, and yet it made her chest tighten ever so slightly as she shook her head. “It’s nice of you to check in every now and then, Thomas, but I’m good.”

With his eyes slightly narrowing, Hermione could tell that he was trying to not raise an eyebrow at her. She knew there was no malicious intent behind it, and yet she still felt her stomach twist just a little.

“Well, if you change your mind, you know where to find me.” He offered another smile, and before Hermione could reply, the bell above the door went off again, and she caught sight of Harry, who had slipped into the shop. Tipping his hat at her, Thomas turned around, doing the same to Harry as he passed him, before stepping out into the street.

“Everything okay?” The tone of his voice showed real concern and Hermione forced herself to ignore the unpleasant feeling in her stomach, choosing to smile instead.

“Oh, yeah all good,” She nodded, “He just wants to buy something I can’t provide him with,” Again, not technically a lie, though she was dancing around the truth quite a bit, and it made her feel a little bad.

“And here I was, thinking you could get anything Quidditch related.” He was clearly trying to tease her, and Hermione couldn’t help the small smile that tugged on the corners of her mouth, despite smiling being the last thing she had been thinking about a minute ago.

“Almost anything,” She then replied, “I might have been called the brightest witch of my age, but even I have my limits,” It was a title she had always worn with pride, especially coming from a Muggle family and having worked hard to earn it. It had followed her around even after Hogwarts, when she had decided to go to university before eventually thinking about taking a teaching position at her old school, but then life had gotten in the way.

“Well, would the brightest witch of her age like to get some lunch with me?” Harry asked with a chuckle, and Hermione laughed in return, unable to deny him the request.

After lunch they both went their separate ways, though Hermione found Harry waiting for her when she closed the shop. It was nice, having someone that seemed to think about her so frequently, even though she knew that it probably wasn’t a good sign that he made her heart miss a beat the way he did. Still, Hermione didn’t say no when he offered to walk her home, the sun already setting behind grey clouds.

The house Ron and she had rented when coming here was small, tucked in between two other houses that already had their Christmas lights up. One of them even had an entire army of LED snowman in the front yard, all of them doing various things like playing guitar or holding cookies out. Hermione’s house, however, stood out with its complete darkness, safe for a porch light that flared up as they approached.

“Not a Christmas type of person?” Harry asked as they came to a stop, and Hermione ignored the way her chest tightened again.

“No. Not really. It just...doesn’t feel like Christmas this year to me.” It was a vague answer, and again not a lie, and yet she felt bad about it the moment the words came out of her mouth.

“Well, too bad. I was thinking of putting Christmas decoration up at the shop and hoped that you could help me with that,” He chuckled, and when Hermione glanced up at him, their eyes met for a short moment, making her heart beat a little faster in her chest.

“Well, I can still help you out with that. I do have an eye for decoration and arrangements,” She then replied, causing Harry’s smile to widen.

“I’d love that,” He then nodded, and for a moment Hermione almost asked him to come inside. It was a bad idea though, she was well aware of that, which was why she kept her mouth shut about it, instead taking a few steps up onto the porch, one hand raised to wave at him.

“See you tomorrow?”

“Absolutely. I’ll come up with a few ideas for the decorations and you can roll your eyes at me when I’m way off, how does that sound?”

“I have never rolled my eyes at you!” Hermione exclaimed with a laugh, shaking her head as she watched him walk down the pathway backwards.

“But you thought about it, haven’t you?” And with that he turned around, his chuckle still audible as he waved at her over his shoulder, and Hermione found herself standing on the porch long after he had disappeared from sight.


	2. Chapter 2

_Santa tell me if he really cares_  
_'Cause I can't give it all away if he won't be here next year_

When she made her way towards the ice-skating rink the next morning, she could feel the anticipation building up, but instantly scolded herself for assuming that Harry would be there. Just because he had come to see her there twice didn’t mean that it was going to be a regular occurrence, and just because he had asked her to help with the Christmas decorations didn’t mean that they would spend every waking moment together. He was just being nice.

In fact, _she_ was just being nice as well. And yet she couldn’t quite help the way her heart missed a beat when she saw him leaning against the railing, much like he had the day before, hot cups of coffee in hand. It wasn’t helping that Parvati had tried to call her three times this morning though, and Hermione knew she would have to answer eventually. For now, however, she was going to enjoy the quiet, which was only occasionally interrupted by Harry very nearly falling flat on his face.

They cut their time short just a little bit today, mainly so they could finish picking up the decorations before it was time to open the shop. “Are you seriously going to try and put up that tree?” She asked, one eyebrow raised as she looked at where it stood, leaning against the counter. “That’s about half as big as your shop. As your adviser on all things Christmas I’m going to have to vote no on that one,”

Harry laughed from where he appeared in the kitchen door, shaking his head. “Oh no, that one’s for you,” He then nodded, and Hermione couldn’t help but turn around in surprise to face him.  
“For me?” She then asked, only to watch him nod once more.

“Of course, you had no Christmas lights or decorations up at your house and I figured you could at least use a tree. I’ll even help you decorate,” He smiled, and Hermione felt her chest tighten just a little as she tried to put on a smile.

“Harry, you shouldn’t have,” She then muttered, reaching out to run her fingers over the green, taking in the familiar scent that was so closely tied to Christmas it made her heart hurt just a little bit.

“Well I did. I figured we could take it to your shop and leave it there until later and when we go home, we’ll drop it off.” It sounded like a solid plan, and Hermione could feel tears welling up in her eyes all of a sudden, so she quickly turned to one of the boxes that were stacked on top of the tables.

“Alright. Well. We’re going to need a few more fairy lights. Hey, what do you think about floating candles above the tables? It gives the whole atmosphere a nice touch!” It wasn’t long until Hermione had forgotten about the tears, fully engrossed in decorating the small shop and adding details here and there, while Harry disappeared into the kitchen every now and then to prepare food. They had left the tree in her shop, and it wasn’t until Mrs. Harris from down the street came into the coffee shop, asking for her, because she’d been meaning to buy a _Holyhead Harpies_ jersey for her niece, that Hermione realized she should have opened the store two hours ago. It wasn’t like she was missing the sale of a century, and yet she felt a little bad for so easily forgetting about it.

“I’ll come by later to help with the tree,” Harry offered with a smile, and Hermione nodded, giving him one in return, ignoring the way her heart missed a beat yet again.

-

When it was time to close the shop, Hermione very nearly stumbled over something that had been placed on the doormat. At first glance it looked like a regular newspaper, but the moment she noticed the moving pictures, she realized that it was an edition of the _Daily Prophet._  
Frowning slightly, she had half a mind to just throw it away, because she didn’t care for the newspaper, and had definitely not ordered to have it delivered to her, but the picture on the front page looked eerily familiar.

Bending down to pick it up, Hermione suddenly felt her stomach drop as she saw a picture of herself and Harry on the ice skating rink, spinning around as they held on to each other, with a headline that read: **_ILLICIT AFFAIR: Famous Harry Potter finds himself tied up in a romance with tragic widow!_**

Hermione’s hands were shaking as she read the words over and over again, like they would suddenly change, or disappear completely. She remembered Rita Skeeter pestering her about an interview a year ago, and when she had declined multiple times, the older woman had written a nasty article about her, but had then quickly lost interest, and yet Hermione should have known better.

When she finally tore her eyes away from the paper and looked up, she caught sight of Harry across the street, who was holding the same edition of the _Daily Prophet_ , confusion in his eyes.

 _Oh no._ She felt her legs move on their own accord as she stepped backwards into the shop, quickly locking the door and leaning against the counter for support. This couldn’t really be happening, could it? She should have known better than to get involved with someone who had spent his entire life being followed by the press, because even though nothing that had been written in that article was true, Hermione knew there were enough people out there who would believe it.

Suddenly it also made sense that Parvati had been called her so many times since last night, and Hermione wished that she would have answered, because maybe then she wouldn’t have been blindsided by this entire thing.

The jingling of the bell above the door pulled her from her thoughts and she frowned as she turned to look, only to find Harry there, wand in hand.

“Can we talk?” Hermione scolded herself for thinking a simple lock would keep him out, he was a wizard after all, a pretty good one, too.

“Don’t...”

“I should have...” They both started at the same time, and if Hermione hadn’t been so wound up, she would have laughed.

“You go first,” Harry offered as he stepped closer, discarding his copy of the _Daily Prophet_ onto the counter.

“I should have...” Hermione began again, feeling tears burning in her eyes as she tried her best to hold it together. “I’m sorry. I should have said something, but it felt like I had missed the moment and now...this,” She gestured vaguely at the newspaper, “I should have seen that coming,”

“Look, if it’s any consolation: I’ve dealt with this woman pretty much all my life, and she will spin a story out of everything. Whether it’s true or not. If you’re worried about...I mean...don’t. People will forget about this faster than Professor Snape can take points away from Gryffindor,” That comment almost made Hermione smile as she wiped at her eyes with her sleeves. “Your husband...died?”

The question hung in the air for a moment, before she finally nodded. “Last year on Christmas Eve. He worked...for the Ministry, actually. He was an Auror, but he wanted to change careers. He’d been dreaming about owning a shop like this ever since...well, ever since I’ve known him, and so we finally decided to move here, close to his parents, and give this whole thing a try. It was his last mission,” Hermione trailed off, a dry laugh escaping her throat. “The paint hadn’t even dried yet.” She still remembered the moment she had seen them approach the house in their cloaks, an almost eerie sense of doom surrounding them as Hermione caught sight of them through the window where she had just finished putting up the tree. They had been meaning to go to see Ron’s family the next morning, and instead she had ended up planning his funeral.

“Wait, he was part of that undercover mission? We lost a few great people that night,” Glancing up at Harry, Hermione nodded. She had never been explicitly told what had happened, but she knew that they had been looking for people who still followed Voldemort, hoping and plotting for his return. They were people who had followed him during his initial uprising, before Harry had completely obliterated him, losing his parents in the process. He had never been heard from again, but that fateful night of Halloween had made Harry famous, and also an orphan. “I’m sorry,” He had reached out to rest a hand on hers, and Hermione almost pulled back, but his touch was warm and somehow comforting, when it really shouldn’t have been. “I’m sorry, I’m sure he was a wonderful person, and I’m sorry I put you back on Rita’s radar. She’s ruthless, but I tend to forget that not everyone is as used to as her antics as I am,”

Against her better judgement, Hermione leaned into the touch, because it felt comforting to know that he wasn’t judging her, or that he hadn’t turned his back on her because she hadn’t been entirely truthful with him. “And this is probably the reason you’re not really in the Christmas spirit, huh?” He then continued with a sigh, “And I’m the idiot who keeps asking you to help him with decorations, and I even brought you a tree,” He gestured towards the corner of the room, where they had left the tree for the time being. “I’m sorry,”

“No, no. You couldn’t have known that. I should have been more honest with you.” Hermione quickly interjected, “It was just...” A sigh followed as she glanced up from where his hand was still resting on top of hers. “This town is small, everyone knows everyone, and I feel like I never really got the chance to actually show the real me? The moment Ron was gone, I was always just the poor woman whose husband died. And I don’t want to seem ungrateful, because people have been nothing but kind to me but...”

“You can’t seem to shake that label, no matter how hard you try,” Harry finished, meeting her eyes with a nod. “I know how that feels. Why didn’t you move?”

Wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand once more as some more tears were threatening to fall, Hermione shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know...it was hard. We had just gotten here and spent most of our money on getting this shop off the ground,” She glanced around, “It was his dream, and his parents and siblings came by to help out, and I didn’t know how to tell them that...” She trailed off, the truth hard to admit, even now. Molly and Arthur had lost their son, and Ginny and the others had lost a brother, and this shop was all there was left of him, a mirror to the passion he had so fiercely followed, and Hermione didn’t want to take that away from them.

“Come on,” Harry was squeezing her hand, pulling her from her thoughts, before letting go. She almost complained about the suddenly lack of warmth and contact, but then thought better of it. “I’ll get you home. We can put the tree up or drop it off somewhere along the way if you want. I’m sure there’s people out there who won’t say no to a free Christmas tree.”

They had dropped both their copies of the _Daily Prophet_ into the trash, before making their way down Main Street, the tree levitating next to them. It must have been a strange image, even for a town that was used to magic, even if only on a small scale, but Hermione really couldn’t bring herself to care. Not when Harry was walking next to her, his presence anchoring her and reminding her that things might not have been as bad as they seemed. It wasn’t long until they had set the tree up in the living room, and she had half a mind to ask him to stay. It probably wasn’t a good idea though, not with how emotional their day had been so far. Besides, they were friends, that was all. There was no need to give Rita Skeeter anything else to write about that could only potentially be taken as true.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Harry’s voice pulled her from her thoughts and Hermione found herself nodding as she opened the door for him to step outside.

“Yes. All good. I just need a good cup of tea and some sleep.” It really did feel like she hadn’t slept in days, exhaustion creeping up on her as they spoke. “I’ll see you tomorrow, though?”

He nodded, the corners of his lips turning upwards into a soft smile. “Yeah. Bright and early. I’m bringing coffee, and possibly even some pastries, just because.” The prospect of that, and just seeing him in general, this incident not seeming to have put him off for good, had Hermione smiling in return.

“I can’t wait.”

-

She had sent a text to Parvati that night, promising to call her in the morning, because she really hadn’t felt like talking anymore. In fact, Hermione had gone to bed immediately, the teacup untouched on her nightstand where it had gone cold.

When she woke the sun probably hadn’t even considered rising yet, and after making herself another cup of tea, while passing by the living room to cast a glance at the tree, she eventually decided to put the time she had to good use.

After Christmas last year, and the tragic events overshadowing it, Hermione had taken down all decorations and stored them in the back of the basement, where she now found them again, carrying the boxes upstairs. The fairy lights were quickly set up, along with the baubles she had gotten from Molly two years ago. They were red and gold, and two of them had the letters _H_ and _R_ on them. Her eyes lingered for a moment longer, but the pain she had expected didn’t hit. At least not in full force anyway. There was a faint pull in her chest, like her body remembered what it was like to feel that grief, but most of all the baubles made her think of how excited Ron had been about presents that year, and that for once it wasn’t a sweater with his initials on it, only to instantly drop the baubles and have them shatter all over the floor when he realized that it was basically a variant of the presents Molly handed out to her children each year. Hermione had quickly fixed them with a spell, and they had hung them up on their tree the next year, a reminder of that warm familiarity and sense of home she always got whenever she was with the Weasleys.

By the time she was done decorating, it was almost time to call Parvati, and Hermione made herself another cup of tea before she settled onto the couch.

“Listen. I know not everything Rita writes is true, but are you, or are you not, in a secret relationship with one of the most famous wizards in Britain?” Her best friend’s voice was loud and demanding, so not much different than usual, at least whenever she got excited, but Hermione couldn’t help but shake her head. “Because If you are, and you didn’t tell me, then I am going to be very disappointed!”

“Like you said, don’t believe everything Rita Skeeter writes. In fact,” Hermione replied, “Don’t believe _anything_ she writes. Harry and I are just friends,”

“That picture said otherwise though,” Parvati pointed out, her voice a little softer now, “You know it’s okay to like someone else, right? Ron would have wanted you to be happy,” Hermione felt her chest tighten just a little as the other woman spoke, but quickly shook herself out of it.

“It’s not like that.” She then repeated, “We’re just friends.” Or at least that was what she had been telling herself for the past few days now, and it really wasn’t helping that Parvati seemed to have a different opinion on the matter.

“Look,” She continued, “I don’t know what’s going on, but that picture right there?” Hermione assumed that she was looking at the _Daily Prophet_ , and even though she had only gotten a short glimpse of it, she remembered the actual scene, with Harry holding onto her hands as they spun around each other, their laughter echoing through the air, “It’s the happiest I’ve seen you in a year, and if he makes you feel like that, regardless of who he is? Then that’s worth chasing, don’t you think?”

There was a pause where Hermione bit her lip, feeling a mix of nervousness and excitement bubbling up in her chest. “Yeah, maybe.” She then found herself saying, eyes landing on the clock that was resting on the mantlepiece above the fireplace. “Speaking of, I have to go.” Another pause. “Thank you,”

“Any time, Darling. Keep me updated.”

Grabbing her coat, she quickly headed out the door, letting the phone slip into her pocket as the excitement seemed to take over. What if she just asked him for a date? Would there really be any harm in doing it? Hermione had to admit that she didn’t have much experience with dating. Ron and she had been school sweethearts, and while there had been a brief romance with someone else before that, she had been out of the game for so long that she had no idea how to approach the whole thing. With Harry everything had been so easy though, so maybe this was much the same.

She was smiling by the time she had reached the main street, almost skipping down towards the square, though when the skating rink came into view, Hermione noticed that Harry was nowhere to be found. Quickly checking her watch, she noticed that she was, in fact, five minutes later than usual, so he really should have been there. Shrugging it off, she quickly changed into her skates to do a few rounds, but the longer she was on the ice, the weirder it felt. He had promised to meet her, like they had done so many times in the past week, and yet he was nowhere to be seen, and it made Hermione’s chest tighten just a little.

Had something happened? Or maybe he had simply changed his mind, but Harry didn’t seem like the type to just stand someone up, even if they had never actually exchanged numbers. It hadn’t been necessary with their shops in such close proximity, but he could have sent an owl, if he had brought one, or dropped by the house.

Frowning, and ignoring the way her stomach was twisting ever so slightly, Hermione eventually stepped off the ice by the time the sun was beginning to rise over the buildings.

“Maybe he just forgot...” She muttered to herself as she took off down the road and towards the coffee shop, hoping to maybe find him there.

When she approached, the light in _Lily’s Delights_ was on, falling into the street, and Hermione found herself frowning as she approached. Maybe something had come up? With Ron’s job at the Ministry she had been used to waiting up late, or even being stood up, but this was different.

Stepping closer, she could now see movement inside the shop, and when she was finally close enough to get a good look, Hermione felt her heart drop. There he was, stood by the counter, joined by a woman Hermione almost hated herself for knowing. She had attended Hogwarts with Harry, though being a year below him, Hermione had known her to be _Head Girl_ of Gryffindor. That wasn’t what she remembered her for though, no. Hermione distinctively remembered Parvati holding up editions of the _Daily Prophet_ with the woman’s face on it, alongside Harry’s, talking about romances and potential break ups and reunions. After school, Lavender Brown had decided to become a lawyer, with her practice situated in London, and yet she was here, facing Harry with her hands on his cheeks.

Hermione stood frozen for a moment, just watching, and somehow it was hard to look away, even though she could feel her chest tightening with every second that passed. She suddenly felt incredibly stupid for even thinking that he could be into her. She had mistaken his friendliness for something else, or no...she had let herself be convinced that it meant something more than it did, when in reality he was probably just being polite, and she had to go and fall for it.

The sound of a door opening and closing pulled her from her trance like state and Hermione tore her eyes away from the window, only to be faced with Harry, now just a few steps away from her.

“Hermione. I’m sorry. I got caught up. I meant to send you a message, but then I realized I don’t even have your number.”

The words made sense, and yet they stung as her eyes caught sight of Lavender, glancing back at her through the window. “It’s fine.” Hermione’s voice was colder than she had intended it to be, arms crossed in front of her chest. It had gotten colder overnight, and she scolded herself for already imagining her hands wrapped around a warm coffee mug, a pastry on a plate in front of her, talking about the day ahead and possibly a few more decorations to add to the shop.

She had let herself get invested without even wanting to, and now it was getting harder and harder to breathe all of a sudden. “I realized I have an inventory to do anyways. Have a good day,” She had already turned, when suddenly his hand reached out to grab hers, and Hermione felt tears stinging in her eyes all of a sudden.

“’Mione. I’m sorry I was...”

“You don’t get to call me that.” She shook her head, pulling her hand away with a little more force than she probably should have. “Look. I can see you’re busy. It’s fine. I have things to do, too.” She then added, glancing back at him over her shoulder for a moment. Hermione had briefly considered just locking herself in the shop, but there wasn’t really anywhere to hide considering he had bypassed her lock the first time around, so before Harry could say anything else, she had closed her eyes, and within seconds, she was gone, leaving an empty space where she had stood just a moment before.

Reappearing in the middle of her living room, Hermione found herself needing a moment to steady herself. She wasn’t apparating much anymore, since pretty much everything in this town was within walking distance, and she didn’t mind taking the train into London, but right now it had seemed like the only reasonable thing to do, because she could already feel the tears falling down her cheeks, and she didn’t want Harry to see her like that. She felt foolish for letting herself get so invested, thinking that maybe this tiny spec of happiness was something she could grasp and hold onto after such a long time, but she had clearly been wrong.

Her eyes caught sight of the Christmas tree that was still lit up, and somehow the pain got worse, though now it was mixing with anger. Anger at herself for being so reckless and letting herself get caught up in feelings that clearly weren’t doing her any good, and anger at him, too, even though she was aware that he had nothing to blame himself for.

Reaching out to grab the ornaments and take them off the tree, Hermione found her vision blurring slightly as she took everything down, hands shaking as the tears continued to stream down her face. She should have never gotten this invested. She should have never let herself care about him as much as he did, because there was no way this could have gone down a road that didn’t end in heart break and...

The bauble that had R written on it in gold letters slipped from her hand all of a sudden, and even though she fumbled for a moment, the sound of it crashing onto the floor reached her ears just a moment longer.

Crouching down to reach for it, even though she knew it was to no avail, Hermione only came up empty handed, the various pieces scattered all over the floor as a sob escaped her lips.

It would be an easy fix once she had gathered all the pieces, unlike a broken heart.

-

Hermione didn’t go to the ice rink the next day.

In fact, she did little other than quickly apparate into the shop to hang up a small sign that read _‘Closed for inventory. If you need to purchase anything, please call the following number:’_ with her home phone number attached. It wasn’t like anyone really came into the shop to buy something anyway. They had put all their money into it, in hopes of it taking off, but all Hermione did was lose money, and the only reason why she hadn’t sold it yet was that she couldn’t do that to Arthur, Molly and the others. They had always managed to do well, despite having little money, so she didn’t want to complain, and if this was the only thing left to remind them of their son, then she couldn’t just give it up.

The phone stayed silent all morning and afternoon, and when Hermione finally stepped out of the house, it was only to drag the tree out behind her. She had collected the shards of the bauble she had broken last night and left them on the kitchen table, having not quite felt up to the task of repairing it without potentially messing up.

Every time she had passed the living room, however, her eyes had fallen onto the naked tree, and it made her stomach twist just thinking about how stupid she had been. She had let herself feel something for the first time in a year, and it had instantly backfired. Something was telling her that she should have known better.

Pushing a strand of hair out of her face, Hermione dropped the tree to the ground, only to catch someone approaching her from the corner of her eye. Turning to look she was faced with Harry, who had the collar of his coat turned up against the cold, and his hands buried in his pockets. “Can we talk?”  
Hermione’s first instinct was to run away. It might have been childish, but it was how she felt right there and then, tears beginning to sting in her eyes once more. She was aware that he really shouldn’t be having this kind of effect on her, but there was little she could do about it. “I’m busy,” She eventually managed, only briefly meeting his eyes as she turned to head back up towards the house.

“Hermione, please.” He continued, following her. “I’m sorry about standing you up. I should have managed to find a way to contact you.”

“Look,” She sighed, feeling anger flaring up in her chest all of a sudden. “You can do whatever you want, Harry. I’m sure whatever it was that you and Lavender had to talk about was important. It’s none of my business.”

“Is that what this is about?” He asked, genuine confusion audible in his voice, and Hermione stopped in her tracks, fighting the urge to slap herself. “Look, I don’t know what you think you saw, but I can assure you that Lavender only came by to check on me. Her and I were never actually a couple. That’s just another thing Rita Skeeter blew way out of proportion.”

Slowly turning, Hermione frowned as their eyes met once more. “She had her hands on your face,” Part of her wasn’t even sure why she was still having this conversation with him, but she assumed the logical part of her brain had lost the battle against her heart, which wanted to believe every word he was saying.

“Lavender’s always been very hands on. That’s just how she is.” Harry replied, shaking his head, “We’ve been friends since school and when Rita was looking for something to write about me, especially nasty things about my love life, Lavender decided to basically take the fall. I didn’t want her to, but she said that she could take it, that way I was free to actually date someone if I wanted to. She might not seem like it at first glance, but she cares,” There was a pause, in which Hermione somehow felt even more stupid. She was usually a rather logical person, but when she had seen the two of them together, it was like her brain had decided to switch off, leaving only room for pain, and maybe a little bit of self-pity. “Which is why she came to see me. When I up and left London...I didn’t really consult anyone. I just...put in my leave at the Ministry and went off. I just...wanted to get away. I mean...it feels like my entire life has been laid out in front of me. I was always the hero,” He had closed the distance between them, and Hermione found herself gravitating towards him, against her better judgement. “Do you know what that feels like? To be regarded as something you really don’t feel like you are, or even deserve? I don’t remember anything from that day, I mean I was a baby. All I did that day was lose my parents,” He shook his head, “And then you grow up, and everywhere you go people stare, and they make you out to be some kind of hero when you really don’t feel that way. They expect you to go on and do great things, like change the world and all that.”

“Oh Harry,” Hermione had reached out to tug on the scarf that was wrapped around his neck, because she wasn’t quite sure where else to put her hands. People had started calling her _‘The brightest witch of her age’_ very early on, and while it had put pressure onto her, she had never wavered. She had always been smart, and studying wasn’t a burden. Even opening the shop with Ron wasn’t something anyone had regarded as a setback, because once things had gotten off the ground, she could have still gone back to do something else, even work for the Ministry if she had wanted to.

“And so I came here, to see if I could be something else. Something I _wanted_ to be, for a change. I guess I was looking for a sign, and then I met you,” His features softened as he glanced down at where she was toying with his scarf, before meeting her eyes again.

“Me?” Hermione asked, trying to ignore the way her heart missed a beat.  
“Yeah. You didn’t care who I was. Or why I came here. You were just...there. The first thing I thought of in the morning, making me want to jump out of bed and get ready quickly just so I could be the first person at the ice rink, watching your face light up when you saw me. I never really felt that way about anyone before, and I surely wasn’t expecting to now, but here we are,”

Hermione couldn’t quite help but laugh, shaking her head slowly. “I...don’t think I was expecting to fall for someone either. When Ron...passed away, it was like the world suddenly lost its color, you know?” She then continued. “And...I was trying so hard to keep it together, to keep the shop up and running, because it was his dream, but maybe that was the problem: It was _his_ dream, not mine, and I was trying to hold onto it, because letting go would mean letting go of him but...for someone as smart as I am, I think I didn’t quite understand that letting go doesn’t mean forgetting,”

And maybe it would have been easier to talk to someone about it, but Hermione hadn’t wanted to burden anyone with her problems which, in hindsight, sounded stupid. If any one of her friends had gone through what she had gone through, then she would have been the first to be there to support them, at any given time of day, and yet it seemed harder to accept help when you were on the needing end of it.

“You know, I often wished my parents had been around to tell me what to do. To help me out when I was stuck, and don’t get me wrong: I was lucky to grow up with wonderful parental figures, but...it wasn’t the same. Like...when I met you, my heart did a double take, and all I could think about was _‘I wish I could call my Mum to tell her about you,’_ which is stupid I know...”

“No. No it’s not.” Hermione shook her head, “I used to talk to Ron all the time. Asked him what I should do, and even though he didn’t answer, for obvious reasons, I felt like he was still there, you know?” Even though it had helped, Hermione was beginning to think that, maybe, she had been talking to a ghost for a little too long and neglecting the living.

“We’re a bit of a mess, aren’t we?” Harry then laughed, and when he reached out to brush a strand of hair behind her ear, Hermione leaned into the touch for a moment. “If you could do anything you wanted to, what would it be?”

Glancing up at him, Hermione’s lips curved into a soft smile. “Open a bookshop, maybe? Travel the world. Kiss you.” She had rarely ever been so bold, but her heart was stumbling again from just looking at him, his warm touch sending shivers down her spine, and it just seemed like the right thing to say. In fact, nothing had felt as right as this in a long time, and when Harry spoke again, she knew she had made the right decision.

“I can help with at least one of those things,” He then chuckled, and before Hermione could reply, he had leaned in to press his lips against hers. It was an innocent kiss, but it instantly set off butterflies in her stomach, her heart beating faster in her chest as she stepped closer. She wasn’t quite sure how long they stood there, but when they eventually pulled back, eyes opening once more, they were both smiling.

“Maybe you can help me out more often, you know? You still owe me for keeping your customers entertained on that first day after all,” She then teased, and Harry laughed in return, brushing his nose against hers.

“Fair,” he then replied before glancing up, and Hermione’s eyes followed his, catching the snowflakes that had begun to fall.

“It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas, huh?” She then smiled, and Harry nodded, his smile matching hers, before leaning to kiss her once more.


End file.
